The Strangers
by Your Regular Belle
Summary: The Strangers. Deadly, diseased and hungry, they prey on the flesh of the children - The ones who didn’t get sick. That is, until the Vampire’s step in, determined to put an end to the rapidly declining population. Normal pairings. Crossover.
1. Summary

**When the sickness came, every parent, police officer, politician – every adult – fell ill. The lucky ones died. The others were left crazed, confused and hungry. Hungry for the flesh of the living.**

**Only children under the age of sixteen remain, and now they're fighting to survive.**

**Meanwhile, the Volturi are facing their own problems. **

**With the world's population in rapid decline, it is within their best interests to keep the people – namely the children – that remain, alive. **

**For what will their species feed upon when the remaining humans die?**

**The Cullen's, however, have a different dilemma. **

**Carlisle is having difficulties sitting back and watching the children be slaughtered mercilessly by the Strangers, and wishes to construct some sort of haven for them, where they can be safe, until the Strangers starve to death.**

**Half of the family agrees with him, whilst half of them don't, and now the Cullen's are finding themselves in the biggest argument they have had since Bella's arrival in Edward's life.**

**And to make matters worse, the animals are getting sick now too.**

**What is to be done?**

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**AN: This story is a crossover between the Twilight Saga and The Enemy – by Charlie Higson. **


	2. I: Fault

**Story Title: The Strangers**

**Rating: M – for violence/gore and strong language**

**Summary: The Strangers. Deadly, diseased and hungry, they prey on the children - The ones who didn't get sick. That is, until the Vampire's step in, determined to put an end to the rapidly declining population. Normal pairings. Crossover. **

**Chapter Title: Fault**

**Disclaimer: The Strangers belong to Charlie Higson, as does the disease. The Characters are mine although the basic storyline for this chapter is his. **

**Enjoy...**

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"_There must be a law against forcing children to perform at an early age. Children should have a wonderful childhood. They should not be given too much responsibility." – __**Maria Callas**_

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Henry was playing in the parking lot behind TESCO's when the Stranger took him. One moment, he'd been in some sort of battle with an odd assortment of action figures, laughing along with the other little children. The next, he was being bundled painfully into some sort of rotting and malodorous sack, the other children screaming and wailing as they raced back towards the make-shift fortress which had, in a past life, been a highly successful British supermarket. The Stranger had most likely singled him out because of his diminutive scale; they were like that – they picked off the small ones, the scrawny ones, and the weakest ones. The ones who could not fight back.

In the panic of the attack, the rest of the group had managed to get back inside safely, and could only watch with horror-struck expressions as Henry was dragged clumsily back into the surrounding trees by a hideously ugly female stranger in a tracksuit that may have once been pink, but was now a filthy a ragged shade of grey. She had a large, egg-like body supported by flabby and peeling legs, with patches of bone poking through the skin on her knees. Her back was arched awkwardly and she ran stooped over, although surprisingly fast, her arms held wide like a scorpion's claws, her filthy blonde hair hanging straight down. Her face was almost completely unrecognizable as the one of a human, the pale skin covered with angry red boils and welts, oozing a mixture of pus and blood.

Another group of children - older ones this time - burst out from between the fortress gates, each clutching a rage of weapons from spears, slingshots, knives, and even cricket bats. They charged desperately after the retreating figure of the Stranger who had, by this time, made it as far as the fringes of the bush, but they were far too late. The woman dived into the thick foliage and disappeared, Henry's high pitched screams echoing ominously behind her.

"Stop!" Elsbeth called from the front of the charging mob, slicing the sharpened point of her spear through the air in frustration. The others halted reluctantly and looked back at her, their expressions ranging from ones of hopelessness to fatigue. Tears burned at the backs of her own eyes as she stared at the point where the Stranger had plunged, Henry's desperate wails ringing fresh and forlornly in her ears. "Stop." She repeated, more quietly this time, her tone both empty and resigned. "There's no point on continuing. He's gone."

"_Fuck!"_ Thaddeus hissed from the centre of the group, the muscles in his neck twitching as he clenched his teeth in suppressed fury. Henry was the second child they had lost that week to the Strangers – an unusual feat seeing as they only usually lost one. He gripped the shaft of his club in a deathly vice, his knuckles turning white with strain, and spat forcefully onto the gravely tarmac beneath his feet.

"That's a shame." Another girl murmured regretfully, her short brown hair frizzing and knotting from lack of attention. "I liked Henry. He was funny."

"That's the second attack this week!" Elsbeth breathed, a mixture of both anger and apprehension staining her tone, as she scanned the shadowed tree-line warily for any more lurking Strangers. "What on earth is going on? Either the Strangers are closing in on us, or their getting braver."

"They ain't brave." A stocky, dark-haired boy named Paul snorted. "If they were still here, I'd show them brave. I'd smash in their ugly faces. Nothing scares me."

"So why were they here?" Elsbeth asked, half sarcastic and half curious.

"Cos' they're hungry."

"We're _all_ hungry." Another kid pointed out, running a dusty hand through his white blonde hair.

"Why were the young un's even outside?" Anusha, a pretty Asian girl with coffee coloured skin, piped up as she nudged an action figure with the point of her worn-out shoe.

"Good question." Thaddeus replied, twirling angrily to face the remaining group of little children as their small faces peeked fearfully through the gaps in the hastily erected gates. "Why _were_ you outside? You're not supposed to come here. It's not safe."

"We were bored." One replied meekly, hanging his tearstained face in shame.

"Yeah! Being inside all day makes us crazy!" Declared another one, her tight ginger pig-tails wiggling up and down as she spoke.

"We should have been out here. We should have been watching them." Elsbeth muttered miserably, biting her lower lip in distress.

"We can't be everywhere at once." Anusha pointed out. "There's not enough of us. Not with Philip out with the scavengers. Our job's to keep a look-out from the roof. The little ones knew they weren't supposed to be out here. _Nobody_ should be out here. We should all stay inside."

"We can't stay inside all day." Paul scoffed. "We'd go mental!"

"It's good inside." Anusha replied.

"You're just scared to come outside." Paul said with a smirk.

"No I'm not. No more scared than you."

"Nothing scares me." Paul declared loftily, flexing the muscles in his arms as he spoke.

"Then you're just stupid."

"Nah," Said Paul. "The thing about the adults or _Stranger's_ as we're supposed to call them, is that some of them are strong, some of them can run fast and some of them are clever. But the strong ones are slow, the fast ones are stupid, and the smart ones are weak."

"Tell that to Henry." Elbeth said angrily. "And to Big Sam. And to Mohammed and Eve and all the other kid's we've lost."

"Strangers won't get me," Paul said confidently.

"What?" Anusha gasped, her brow crinkling. "So it was their fault they got taken. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah. It is."

"Shut up!" Elsbeth hissed at both of them, before saying the words no-body wanted to hear. "We can't go on like this." Her voice was heavy with bitterness. "Soon we're all going to be dead, and I can't stand it anymore!"

She tossed down her spear and slumped to the ground, cradling her head in her arms. _This is all my fault, _she thought gloomily, as a few hot tears trickled from her eyes. When Philip was away she was supposed to be in charge. She could no longer remember when and why it had been decided, but Philip was the leader and she was second in command. It must have happened early on, when most of the children had been too frightened and confused to do anything for themselves. Philip and Elsbeth had just got on with it, organizing everyone, trying in vain to keep their spirits high. Philip was clever and charismatic – right from the start he'd managed to keep his head and not get panicked. Nothing ever seemed to spook him.

The two of them had worked together. A team. Elsbeth had always been good at getting others to help out. There were better fighters than her, that was true, but they were more than happy for her to tell them what to do. They didn't want the responsibility for themselves. They were content to just sit back and relax and let her and Philip make all of the difficult decisions. But when Philip was away leading the scavengers, she was in charge.

And so it was all her fault. Another child gone. She let out a shuddering sigh and shut down part of her mind. She didn't want to think about what the Stranger's would do to Henry. She wanted to think about what life had been like before. Before all of the adults had gotten sick and turned into the monsters the children now lived in fear of. The Strangers. Most of them had died after a few days of the illness, horrible and torturing deaths that forever scarred the minds of whoever was unfortunate enough to watch. Her Dad had been one of the first to go. He'd even appeared as a 'Breaking News' headline on Sky News. _'Another life claimed by deadly disease sweeping through Europe.'_

And then there had been more and more deaths. And not just in Europe – all around the world. They had stopped mentioning individuals. It had been whole streets, whole towns and even whole cities at one point. It had all happened so unbelievably fast that people had been stunned, and hadn't really had time to panic, let alone develop some sort of vaccine to prevent it. All of the scientists and medics had been dying anyway. The whole world had gone into shock. Her Mum had been frantic after her Dad had died. She packed the house up and made preparations to escape to the countryside and stay with their Aunt Sophie, but she fell ill before they could get there. Then it was just Elsbeth and her two brothers and sister. Her oldest brother, Mark, caught the disease next – he was seventeen. And then Aaron followed shortly after – he was eighteen.

Her sister had been too young to catch the illness – it apparently only affected those over the age of sixteen – but she had been killed in a riot up near Scotland Yard. That was only a year ago, but it felt like a lifetime to Elsbeth. By then she had had no more tears left to cry, the catastrophe had just been so immense, so overwhelming, that she had simply forced it out of her mind and concentrated on trying to protect those still living, and stay alive herself. She owed it to her family, as the last one left, not to die.

Seeing her tears, Paul squatted down beside her awkwardly, and placed a shy arm around her shoulders.

"S'alright Ellie." He said quietly. "We'll be alright. Something'll happen, someone will come. Something's gotta change, eh? When Philip and the other scavengers get back we'll talk about it maybe, yeah? Make a plan?"

"What's the point?" Elsbeth replied bitterly, her lips trembling. She knew that, as the second in command, it made her look weak to cry, but at that point she simply didn't care.

"When Philip's back, 'kay?"

She looked up into Paul's concerned and grubby face, taking in the streaks of mud and dirt caked into his hair and clothes.

"Sorry." She whispered simply before looking at the ground in front of her.

"Come on, Ellie." Anusha said kindly, offering her a small smile. "Let's get back inside, where it's safe."

"Yeah." Elsbeth jumped up. She was fine as long as she was doing something, as long as she didn't stop and think. She wished Philip were here, though. She always felt far safer and secure when he was around.

It was just...what was he going to think of her, when he found out about Henry?

Another child gone.

And it was all her fault.

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**Cullen's in the next chapter.**

**Reviews please.**

**x**


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